


Ripples

by EmeraldSage



Series: Juxtaposition [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alfred's a Special Snowflake, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, And Ivan's pretty Considerate, Dominant & Submissive Natures, Forecasting Social Change, Getting to Know Each Other, Implied Sexual Content, Implied Social Change, Kinda, M/M, Pack Hierarchy, Social revolution, Societal Issues, Still possessive as fuck tho, Werewolf Mates, Werewolves, Why did I write about Werewolves?, and again, seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-23 22:31:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9683630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldSage/pseuds/EmeraldSage
Summary: The leaders had known from the start that Alfred would be a stubborn young wolf.  They had no idea how far “stubbornness” would spread.Sequel to "Earn It"





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be kind of scattered interludes about how their life is proceeding and how they develop as a couple, ideals and all. 
> 
> NOTE: I also want people to be really clear, that the AU I’ve set this in has some serious societal issues. There are deeper issues in this society that can only be addressed by social change or social revolution. The implications that exist in Alfred & Ivan’s relationship are indicative of larger issues in society that both of them, in some way, feel discomfited about (Alfred way more than Ivan in this case). But please, keep that in mind when you’re reading this piece (If you’ve decided to read it after this warning). 
> 
> Also, this is the sequel to Earn It, from the Holiday Collection, and once I figure out a decent name, I'll put them together in a series.

            An hour after midnight, the first of the mated began to trickle out of the forest, to present themselves before the elders who would register the young couples and confirm their mating. No one had made the midnight escape, not even Alfred, so the elders were waiting – not impatiently, but certainly anxious – to see the fruit of their unabashed meddling.

            The young couples – although, to be honest, that was quite an _optimistic_ way to phrase the new mates – descended upon the elders gently, as the few watching parents noticed. All the submissives were carried out in the arms of their dominant partner, the both of them in various states of dress, some on piggyback, some bridal style, most generally being unable to stand for long without the damned ache getting to them. The first mating was always rough. Most of them were smiling, having achieved some peace of mind with their new mate, but there were a few – the elders noted whom, very carefully, ever wary of trouble – who looked less than pleased, and more than a few who looked downright frightened. The elders confirmed all the matings, nonetheless. It was tradition.

            And then, a hush fell across the crowd. Newly mated and watching wolves alike turned, trying to catch a glimpse of what had startled and quieted the usually rowdy crowd. The elders watched, curious, with an undeniable yet unexplainable sense of dread assailing them.

            Gold gleamed under the moon’s beaming rays, the crowd parted like the clouds did for the rising dawn, and the elders could finally see.

            It was Alfred. He was fully dressed, unruffled, and almost uninterested in the proceedings that he was witnessing. For a moment, the elders wondered if the stubborn young submissive _had_ made it through the midnight run untouched. It would certainly be a first. But then, Ivan appeared, looking like the chill of winter standing next to summer’s pride, a grin on his face, and the shared scent between them an unmistakable allusion to what had happened.

            They had mated.

            But it was Alfred who took the first step forward, towards the elders, under his own power and his own ability. It was Alfred, whose cold gaze at the gaping submissives or the disapproving, startled dominants around him caught the eye of everyone there. Ivan was there, at his side, not a second after he’d moved, but it had been long enough. The older of the two walked at his new mate’s side, eyes only for the younger. He didn’t touch him, nor move closer than they were already. He didn’t hover, even though Alfred’s stride hinted at a limp that had most definitely come from the mating, and it was very clear to the elders that Ivan had every intention of letting his mate do as he pleased.

            He was, however, close enough to catch Alfred if he faltered. He wouldn’t do it until Alfred asked him, though, verbally or otherwise. He would respect that distance.

            Ivan respected Alfred. If one looked at it the other way around? Not so much.

            The elders had a _really_ bad feeling about how this was going to go.

* * *

            Mating had given him a freedom that he’d not had before, and it was startling. He was no longer chased and hounded by leering dominants, or harassed by the elders and their cronies about his attitude (well…not _quite_ ), and everyone approached Ivan before they even thought about bothering him. And as Ivan terrified just about everyone – even dominants – that rarely happened as it was.

            It was freeing in a way he’d never thought could be possible.

            It was also annoying as hell.

            He was discarded as a person, as an individual, and suddenly everything that he was, he relied upon his mate to _be_. And while it afforded him a level of freedom and privacy that, as an unmated were, he’d not had, it railed against his soul.

            Ivan was far from unobservant – in fact, he was borderline creepy in how much he knew about what Alfred was doing, even when he wasn’t in the room – and he was positive that his mate was well aware about how he felt on the issue. But Ivan was still a dominant, and their mating too new – even being months old – to allow small things to breach the pack’s awareness. He would wait to address it at a better time, even if Alfred was impatient to speak on it, and that left him floundering. Not that it showed outside their small den.

            He was well aware how lucky he’d been, though.

            He’d known in the forest, when Ivan had found him, fought him, and helped him stand after everything had finished, that he had been incredibly lucky with his mate. Being mated wasn’t as much a chore as it could’ve been. Ivan hardly demanded full submission from him – enjoyed it, actually, when he was defiant and aggressive as he usually was – and often let him do his own thing as long as he was aware of where he was. He had rules, of course, but they weren’t hard to follow. A lot of them – things like curfew, meal times, etc. – had been rules that his parents had enforced until he’d mated; rules that every submissive had to follow. Some things, such as always sleeping in the same bed at night, sharing at least one meal together, amongst other things, were aimed at improving their relationship, and Alfred couldn’t say he was entirely against that.

            Ivan was certainly respectful of his boundaries. He was touchy-feely, definitely, and had a very…er…nonexistent concept of personal space in bed. But he _always_ looked for consent before doing anything beyond just being there.

            And Alfred absolutely could _not_ complain about the sex. When it happened. Which was more often than he’d expected it to.

            Oh yeah, there were a _lot_ of worse mates he could’ve had. Ivan, when you got under the veneer, was actually a decent person.

            Still a possessive as fuck dominant werewolf, but nonetheless, a decent person, and a very _aware_ mate. Which was as rare, as young as they were. His parents were aware of each other, but years of living with each other had made them that way. Ivan, observant, intelligent, and cunning as he was, knew very well which buttons he could press and what he shouldn’t. And had the sensitivity – and that he was saying that, _wow_ , because in any sort of normal context that word would _never_ be applicable to the violet-eyed were – that the newly mated often didn’t have.

            And that made him think.

            Because if the elders thought that they could get away with forcing him into the mating race in order to get him ‘out of the way,’ so to speak, they had another thing coming. And he was fairly sure that he could get his mate on _his_ side.

            And then, things would change. They would have to.

            He would accept nothing less.

* * *

            He should have expected it, to be honest. The group of dominants that had gathered to discuss next week’s hunting trip was primarily a group of newly mated wolves. Which, by almost standard definition, meant that the majority of their “discussion” was comparing who they’d mated, how they’d done it, and various other things that had Ivan’s mood shot within the first few minutes. If he hadn’t been well aware of the backlash and exclusion that would come from leaving – something he couldn’t risk now, not with his mate dependent on him as the sole bread-winner so to speak, though he knew better to say such a thing in front of the blue-eyed blond – he would’ve left already. He could only be relieved that the others were too intimidated by his glare – which was steadily darkening and increasingly scary the longer they kept to this topic – and his reputation to ask him about _his_ mate.

            He would’ve gutted them if they’d dared. Risk be damned.

            Thankfully, it seemed as if they were finally getting onto the topic of the hunt next week. It had only been a few weeks after the solstice, but with the New Year falling on them, they had to bring much more meat from the hunt in order for the customary feast to take place. This deep into the winter, the best places to hunt were farther away from their traditional hunting grounds, which meant traveling. Usually, he wouldn’t have a problem. He was always up for the long hunting trips that would hone his focus, his skills, and his mind. But he was mated now, and being away from Alfred for that long was something he knew his mate would want to discuss.

            He’d still end up going – Alfred wasn’t the idiot most people thought him to be, he knew the importance of the New Year feast and the wealth of food it would bring them – but…as a step in the right direction, he knew he should at least speak with the other.

            It was more than these idiots were going to do, he knew that much.

            “Oi, Braginski,” a cocky voice called him, and he restrained violent desire to launch the irritant across the forest. He knew that voice, even more so now that he was mated. Gilbert was one half of the startling double dominant pair that had emerged. Matthew Kirkland, the elder twin of the _first_ double dominant pair, was mated to the irritating albino, which made him, _unfortunately_ , part of Alfred’s family. Which meant: _out of bounds_.

            For now.

            “Running your mouth again, Beilschmidt?” the elder dominant taunted, stretching his awareness to make sure he wasn’t going to miss anything. “What are you whining about now?” He nearly smirked at the way nostrils flared and the albino dominant growled, low, deep and _almost_ challenging, but not yet that stupid.

            “Are you hunting with us or not?” the red-eyed wolf finally ground out, and Ivan blinked.

            “Most likely,” he said, and he could _feel_ the confusion that spread in the wake of that response. But he didn’t feel like elaborating just yet, so he’d leave it like that.

            Unsurprisingly, Gilbert was _not_ content at leaving it at that, and spat, “It’s a strait fucking answer, Braginsky. Are you coming or not? What’s up with this maybe crap?”

            He smiled, driving home the sensation of glass shards and dangerously sharp things, eyes dark, malicious, and filled with danger, sending those near him scattering backwards as his aura _almost_ manifested. But Gilbert wasn’t worth that. He hadn’t crossed the line. _Yet._

            “I’m mated, as _you_ well know,” the glare in his eyes was pointed, and he could see Gilbert almost flinch, “I’ll be gone long enough that I want to speak with Alfred first.”

            “Are you a dominant or not, Braginsky?” one of the irritating, bratty young dominants asked him, obviously screwing up whatever balls he had to ask the question, especially when Ivan’s aura began to color the air around him, “Why do you need to ask? It’s not like a submissive understands the complexities of our hunt. That’s just pathetic.”

            Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gilbert blanch at that. And take a step _back_.

            _Good instincts_ , his mind murmured darkly, the more sadistic part of him rising to the forefront at the insult hurled not just at him, but at his _mate_.

            _Mine!_

            Alfred himself would deny that charge, and he would agree. Alfred was more than a possession, _wanted_ to be more than a possession, would never be anything less than his equal…but it didn’t stop him from draping the younger in his scent, marking him undeniably, uncontestably _his_ to all but the scentless humans they walked amongst.

            And this little insect had just _insulted his mate_.

            He heard Gilbert whisper, “Oh, he’s done,” out of his line of sight, and felt like smiling. The same terror inducing, heart stopping, knife sharp smile that he gave everyone who underestimated him, or thought they could intimidate him. What a laugh.

            Well, at least it hadn’t been Gilbert who’d crossed the line this time. It seemed like the albino were had learned his lesson from last time.

* * *

            “I hear what they say, you know,” his mate’s voice washed over him as he stood from where he’d been fixing the heater; it was powerful, almost amused, and definitely mischievous from what he could tell. He glanced over his shoulder to where his blue-eyed mate was leaning against the doorway of their bedroom, one of his larger shirts doubling as the younger wolf’s nightshirt. He pushed away the heat the image brought him, and returned to his task.

            “What is it that they say, then,” he inquired, knowing that the younger would tell him anyways. He wouldn’t have started the conversation if he hadn’t had something important in mind. He dropped the tools and stepped away to inspect his work, and heard his mate push off from the door frame.

            “They call me improper,” oh, he was definitely amused, and there was a heat in his words that Ivan very much wanted to take on, “Untamed, wrong, and wild, especially for a mated wolf.” He can feel his mate stalking up to him, but he didn’t turn, even as arms wrapped like iron around his chest, and he could feel the other nuzzling into his neck, ever so aware of the sharp smile on those lips.

            He rumbled a laugh, “Is that so?” he asked, even though he was well aware.  The other dominants said the same to his face.  That his mate was too willful, too opinionated, to _dominant_ for a submissive, and that he needed to teach the younger wolf a lesson.

            There had been a reason he had chosen Alfred in the forest that night. There had been a reason he’d smiled when the younger had told him in his den that night, to his face, that he would never be _his_.  There was a reason every time someone came to him, whining about his mate’s odd behavior, he smiled - that terrifying glass smile that sent people running and screaming in terror, foregoing their dignity in the process - and often said not a word.

            Alfred had walked out of the forest that night under his own power, regardless of how Ivan’s claim on him, _in him_ , had been firmly, undeniably established.

            Alfred was his mate, his partner, but he was not _his_.  Was not, and would never be.  And while this rankled at the possessive nature he rarely bothered to suppress, it pleased him far more.

            And yet, still…

            He whirled and caught the younger man in his arms, relishing in the yelp of surprise that he was rewarded with. The smirk that curled his lips was unmistakable, and he saw the realization and the familiar heat that flooded through his mate.

            Most mates took their roles too seriously. Dominants and submissives did their part, they were what they were, and their rigidity strangled the passion that joined them together. He refused to let that happen to the two of them.

            “Will you stay wild for me?” he breathed, arms tightening around the younger wolf, but not tight enough that the other couldn’t break free if he wished. It was a reassurance and a promise all in one; it was change, the first change they would make, and it would _spread_ if they let it.

            His mate’s feral grin was answer enough. They were still mates, after all. And even if Alfred refused his dominance, the other would never contest that relationship. Their partnership, above all.

[ _Partners meant two, after all; meant equals, and all that implied. Partners, he thought, as he watched his mate slumber, curled against him willingly, always. And smiled._ ]

* * *

            Sometimes he wonders if he would be the way he was if he’d been born the way the elders had believed he would be; a dominant wolf with dominant behavior, and the epitome of everything the packs wanted in a young son of the family. Instead, his attitude, his behavior hadn’t changed – he hadn’t let it change – even as the world around him shifted the moment people realized he’d been natured a _submissive_.

            He wondered if it had been fate. Only a submissive would know the difficulties they faced. But while generations of submissives had accepted it as life and society, he’d spurned all their traditions and demanded a role in life that they would refuse him.

            He wondered if he’d be the catalyst for change – for change at a fundamental level, at a level people probably didn’t even realize was affected – if he hadn’t been born the way he was; if he hadn’t been mated to the wolf he was mated to.

            Sometimes, he wondered. And sometimes, he _knew_.

            _Watch where you tread, summer’s child_ , his dreams whispered to him as he shifted and danced in the aurora of colors and life brimming all around him. _You court danger with every step you take, off the beaten path you tread. Luck and chance embrace you, and their wonders they weave about you. Change takes your hand, and you dance. He allows you to lead him where you will, dancing as you please, to a rhythm only you know._

_But be weary, little summer’s child_ , the voices cautioned, _for age old power and tradition watch you now. Stagnancy courts their favor, and Change flees before him. They are ever patient, little golden one. But they are wary. They stride behind you now, as you begin your steps in the dance all humans know, and they will do as they wish to snatch you from the path you weave, knowing what you are, and what you will do if let alone and free._

            _Be true, beautiful summer’s child,_ they proclaimed, _and the world will be leaves in the force of your gale_.

* * *

            “You fought me,” Alfred reminded him one solstice night, when the rest of the pack was watching the summer mating run, his eyes as piercing as the midsummer sun. “You gave me a say.  How many dominants would do that much for a mate they want?”

            Ivan eyed him, swirling the alcohol in his glass, trying not to wonder where this was going.  “Not many, I would imagine.”

            “We’re not even trained for the race,” his mate said, a snarl curving his lips, and he carefully set his glass down on the table and stood, moving to the wall to be closer.  Call him an idiot, but this topic was like a match to light up the furious, incandescent rage within his mate’s mind.

            And Alfred at his most passionate was Alfred at his most brilliant.

            “It’s a societal tradition,” he reminded the younger, stoking the fire with beliefs he would discard as easily as rotted food, his feelings about them much the same, watching as blue eyes darkened with the same determination, the same fire that had lit them aglow the night of their own mating race, right before he’d nearly taken a fist of moon-sharpened claws to the face.

            “I want to change it.”

            Ivan raised a brow, shaking himself from memory, “They’ll oppose you every step of the way.  The elders always do.”  Should he revise his previous estimation?  His mate was far from the stupid, shallow blond he usually showed other pack members, but to change something so fundamental to their society?  Could they do it even if they wanted to?

            But his mate’s eyes were gleaming, strong, proud and _determined_.  And he wondered again at the _stupidity_ of his pack members.  Who could look at this man and not see the potential? Who could look at them and _not_ see the change he would bring?

            Alfred looked at his mate, who was reclining against the wall of their home, studying him intensely.  The same man - the most powerful wolf in the area, the rising star - who was being tapped for the next chief’s position.  Who would one day be leader of their pack.

            “Not if you help me.”

            The elders had wanted to humble him.  They’d wanted to force his submission to someone who’d never accept anything less.  They’d encouraged Ivan’s pursuit of him, knowing who the other man was, the other wolf’s inherent nature.

            They’d never imagined that what drew Ivan to Alfred in the first place was how he’d _brimmed_ with defiance, with _fire_ , with the will and the determination to _thrive_. The drive to accept nothing less than _everything_ he ever wanted, society and its flaws be damned.

            Ivan’s eyes gleamed, something flashing in hidden violet depths, and Alfred smiled.

            “How can I help?”

* * *

 

_“It only takes one voice, at the right pitch, to start an avalanche.” – Dianna Hardy_

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve literally spent all day on this thing because I couldn't get it out of my head until I finished. I don’t care how jumbled up it seems at this point, I wanted it out.
> 
> Please tell me what you think! I'm thinking of expanding it into a multi-chaptered fic, or a series, but I wanna know how y'all like it! Also, if you have any questions about the AU, don't hesitate to message me! Thanks for reading!
> 
> Art Inspired by this work:  
>  Juxtaposition Alfred  an aesthetic by kck bunny


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